Hello, My Name Is
by Loverofallthingsmusic
Summary: "Don't expect anything from me," Agent Gibbs said. "However, I will expect the very best from you." AU
1. Chapter 1

The doors of Director Vance's office flew open.

"Ah. Agent Gibbs. There you are. I have something to discuss with you."

"Yes, Director?"

"Do you remember a notice that SecNav sent out, oh say, six months ago?"

"I can't say that I do, Director."

"Well, I do. It had to do with SecNav's order to have at least five people on your team. You had six months to find somebody. That sixth months was up yesterday."

"I just haven't found the right person yet," he shrugged. "That's all."

"I sent you numerous reminders, Agent Gibbs. SecNav's really putting on the pressure for this one. That's why I took the liberty and found someone to add to your team."

"You what?!"

"Now, I know how you like to pick your team members, but since you didn't comply within the time frame given you, I had to do it for you. Meet Special Agent Rachel Foster."

A petite, young Asian woman stepped out of the shadows of Director Vance's office.

"Agent Gibbs! Very nice to meet you. I have heard to much about you!" the young Asian exclaimed.

"Gibbs, Agent Foster just graduated from the academy, but she was top of the class. Before coming to NCIS, she was a doctor in the United States Navy Medical Corps. She served for eight years. She retired from active duty in the Medical Corps last year, but she is still in Reserves. That means one weekend a month she is to serve at Walter Reed. I expect you to treat her with respect, Agent Gibbs. She has much to offer, if given the chance. She's very intelligent and willing to learn. That is all."

Gibbs stood there. Dumbfounded that the Director would even _think_ about adding another person to his team without consulting him first.

"But, Director..."

"But nothing, Agent Gibbs. This is final. I'll check back with you soon."

Gibbs sighed and motioned for the newest member of the team to follow him out of the office. Once they were in the lobby, Agent Gibbs icily stared at his newest agent. She didn't flinch. She was fairly young, probably in her mid-thirties. She has extremely long, glossy black hair, reaching to her hips, pulled into a simple braid. She was short, about 5'3", much shorter than any of his other agents. However, she was very muscular. Unlike his last Asian agent, Agent Lee. Gibbs cringed thinking about the last time the director had assigned agents to his team. Unlike Lee, though, Rachel had sparkling, deep brown eyes that looked like they had seen much and a beautiful smile.

"I guess you're part of my team, whether I like it or not. I don't like newcomers at all. Don't expect anything from me. However, I will expect the very best from you, Agent Foster. I will be watching you. One wrong move and you're off my team. Understand?"

"Absolutely, sir."

"Don't 'sir' me."

"Yes, Agent Gibbs."

"Well, I might as well introduce you to the rest of the team. But first I need to go get some coffee. It's going to be a long day."

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoy my story. Please review! Thanks! :) :) :)**

**Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They belong to CBS and Donald P. Bellisario.**


	2. Chapter 2

Special Agent Anthony "Tony" DiNozzo watched as Gibbs hurried out of the director's office.

"Uh oh. Watch out everyone! Gibbs seems royally pissed!"

"Tony, it cannot be that bad," commented Special Agent Ziva David, Tony's partner and coworker.

"Uh, Ziva? Did you take a look at his face? He's going to get more coffee and it's only 8:30 am!" said Timothy McGee, both Ziva's and Tony's coworker.

"Very good observation, McGee," Gibbs snapped as he whirled into the bullpen. "Everyone, this is Special Agent Rachel Foster. She is now a member of our team. Vance assigned her to us. She just graduated from the Agent Academy and we're expected to show her the ropes."

Everybody's mouths just hung open in astonishment. Vance adding a person onto the team without letting Gibbs know? Nobody did that to Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Nobody.

"Agent Foster, this is Special Agent Anthony 'Tony' DiNozzo."

"Very Special Agent, Boss."

Gibbs gave Tony one of his world-famous (okay, maybe agency-famous) glares. A glare that would freeze Hell itself over.

"Oh!" Agent Foster exclaimed. "You're the guy who got the pneumonic plague! I remember you! I was one of the residents who helped treat you! It's nice to know you fully recovered and are back doing what you love!"

"Resident?" Tony asked, throwing a questioning look at Gibbs.

"Oh yeah. I forgot. She's on Navy Reserves over at Walter Reed...she's an doctor. Anyway, Agent Foster, over here we have Special Agent Timothy McGee."

McGee waved and smiled. Agent Foster smiled back, finally glad that someone had actually acknowledged her presence.

"Over here is Special Agent Ziva David."

Rachel spotted the small Israeli flag that Ziva always kept on her desk. "Are you by any chance Israeli?"

"Why, yes, I am."

"Shalom, Agent David. אתה מדבר עברית? (Do you speak Hebrew?)"

"שלום, סוכן פוסטר, וכן אני לדבר בעברית, די שוטף בפועל. (Shalom, Agent Foster, and yes I do speak Hebrew, quite fluently, actually.)"

"לפחות אני יודע שאהיה לי מישהו שיכול לעזור לי לשמור על מוברש בעברית, ולאחר מכן. אני היה מוצב במזרח התיכון לחלק גדול מהשירות הפעיל שלי, אז למד לדבר בעברית די שוטפת. (At least I know I will have someone who will help me keep brushed up in Hebrew, then. I was stationed in the Middle East for much of my active duty, so I learned to speak Hebrew quite fluently.)"

"Are you two done yet? I still have to introduce Agent Foster to Abby, Ducky, and Palmer. We don't have all day." Gibbs said impatiently.

"I am ready to meet the other members of my team. Just give me a moment to put my stuff at my desk. Where is my desk, come to think of it, Agent Gibbs?"

"Your desk is over around the corner. I'll show it to you right now."

The two quickly walked over to Agent Foster's new desk.

"Um, Agent Gibbs? I can't see anybody. How am I supposed to know what's going on with my team?"

"You'll make do. And it's not your team. You are simply here because Director Vance assigned you to this team. Nothing more." Gibbs snapped. "Now let's go see the rest of MY team. Everyone else, get back to work!"

**A/N: Thanks for reading this far.**

**Disclaimer: I will be using many different languages for this story. I'm using Google Translate for all of my translating, so I'm sorry if things are not grammatically correct!**

**Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Gibbs and Agent Foster headed quickly towards the elevator. First, they went to meet Abigail 'Abby' Scuito, the team's quirky forensic specialist and self-proclaimed favorite of Gibbs.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!" a woman, clothed in all black, called out. "I heard you had a new agent on the team! Can I meet her?"

"Yeah, Abs. That's why I'm here. This is Special Agent Rachel Foster. Agent Foster, this is Abigail Scuito, our forensic specialist."

"You can call me Abby! It's so nice to meet you, Rachel!" Meanwhile, Abby's hands spelled out a different story.

"Seriously, Vance gave you another agent? Without asking you? That's like asking for a slow and painful death. You remember the last time you had an Asian on your team! She turned out to be a mole! I bet her name is Lee, too! She's probably trying to learn all the agency's secrets, and she's going to sell them to China, and...and..." Abby signed.

"Abs. Calm down. If I play my cards right, Agent Foster won't be permanent. I'm going to see Vance right after I take Foster to meet Ducky and Palmer. I know what happened last time. I'm just hoping this time that Vance isn't stupid enough to pull a stunt like that again," replied Gibbs's hands.

Agent Foster, watching and interpreting the entire exchange had had enough. Signing as she spoke aloud, she angrily gave Abby and Gibbs a piece of her mind, "You can cut the crap already. If you have something to say, you can say it to my face. I know you don't like me, and I'm not sure if I like you guys either. You don't trust me, and I get that. But don't judge me for something that someone else, who I don't even know, did. Let me earn my place. I can do this job." She gave Gibbs one of her patented stares- a stare that could scare even the fiercest of Marines.

After a long stare-down, Gibbs, without a word, turned around and headed back to the elevator. Agent Foster scrambled to keep up.

Next, they visited Autopsy.

"Ducky, Palmer, I'd like you to meet my newest agent, Special Agent Rachel Foster. Agent Foster, this is Dr. Donald Mallard and his assistant, Jimmy Palmer."

"Nice to meet you, Doctor Mallard, Mr. Palmer."

"You can just call me Ducky, my dear."

"Okay, Ducky."

"Um, Agent Foster. You can just call me Jimmy. I mean, if you want to. You don't have to. I mean, whatever's comfortable..." the young assistant stuttered.

"Agent Foster can always be back-up if you ever need it. According to Vance, she was in the Navy Medical Corps for about eight years," Gibbs added.

"A doctor! How interesting. Back when I was in the Royal Army Medical Corps..."

"Ducky. I don't have all day. I just brought Agent Foster down to meet you guys and Abby. We have to be getting back upstairs now."

"It was so nice meeting you both! I can't wait to work with you guys!" smiled Agent Foster.

|•|

"Well, what do you think of our newest agent?" asked Tony, as soon as Gibbs and Foster had gone out of earshot.

"She seems really nice. Kind of quiet. She must be really good if she got assigned to our team straight out of the academy. Vance must see some potential in her. I mean he wouldn't assign just anybody to our team. Probably," said McGee.

"Either that or Vance is punishing Gibbs for something he has done," Ziva noted. "She seems very kind though. Gibbs will not be going easy on her. I hope she is not sensitive. Oh well. What does not kill you makes you stringier."

"It's stronger, Ziva," corrected Tony.

"Ah. That does make more sense," Ziva replied.

"Stop gabbing. Grab your gear, we have a dead Marine over in Quantico," said Gibbs as he rounded the corner, surprising everyone.

A chorus of "Yes, Boss" resounded throughout the bullpen.

Pulling his newest agent aside, Gibbs hissed a warning. "This is your first crime scene on my team. I'll be watching you. Mess something important up and I will hold you personally responsible."


	4. Chapter 4

When the agents arrived on scene, a gruesome sight awaited them. A young Marine's body was laid out on the ground. She was beaten, bruised, and had been brutally stabbed.

"McGee. Fingerprints." Gibbs said as soon as they arrived on scene.

"Boss. This is Gunnery Sgt. Amanda Smith," McGee said.

"Okay. Foster and McGee, get witness statements. DiNozzo, bag and tag. Ziva, sketch and shoot."

McGee and Foster took the statements, then checked back with Gibbs.

"Gibbs, a dog walker found the body while walking her dog about 7:00 am this morning. She immediately called it in. Ducky should be able to verify a time of death," summarized McGee.

After about an hour-and-half at the crime scene, they packed up and returned to the Navy Yard. Gibbs sent Foster down to help Ducky, since Jimmy had to leave because of a family emergency.

|•|

"Ah. Agent Foster. Thank you for your assistance. I hope this doesn't inconvenience you in any way. Mr. Palmer had to leave because of a family emergency."

"Not at all, Ducky. You can call me Rachel. Nobody really calls me that anymore. It's always either Captain Foster, Agent Foster, or Foster. Rarely do people ever use my first name. Or you can call me by my Chinese name, Fang-Hua **(A/N: This means Fragrant Flower, roughly translated.)**"

"Okay, Rachel. I think I shall stick with your American name for now. Why did you join NCIS?" Ducky asked.

"I had what I guess you would call a mid-life crisis. I felt that I couldn't perform my job up to the standard that was required. So I decided to try something new. I've always been fascinated with with crime and how it's solved, so I decided to give NCIS a try."

"Very interesting. What medical school did you attend, my dear?"

"I actually attended Harvard School of Medicine. I got the HPSP (Health Professions Scholarship Program) scholarship and decided to make the most of it. I really enjoyed my time at Harvard."

"What field of medicine did you go into after Harvard?"

"I've always loved the excitement and pressure of the emergency room, so I did my internship and residency in the ER. I absolutely love the emergency room. You never know what's going to happen! That's what I do at Walter Reed, when I go in for Reserves."

Just then, the doors of Autopsy opened and Gibbs strode in, third cup of coffee for the day and a Caf-Pow!, in hand."

"Got anything, Duck?"

"Ah, yes Jethro. Time of death was around 2:30, this morning. She was beaten unconscious, my guess is with a long flat object, like a board. She was then sexually assaulted. After that, she was stabbed eight times. Twice in the lungs, to make sure if she did regain consciousness, she wouldn't be able to cry out. Next, she was stabbed twice in the heart. Then, four times in the abdomen. And I think I know why..." Ducky stopped suddenly.

"Well, are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?"

"She was pregnant, Jethro." The silence that filled the room was deafening. Gibbs got a hard look on his face. Motioning to Rachel, he said, "Thanks Duck. Foster and I are going to check with Abby."

"No trouble at all, Jethro. Rachel was a huge help. Feel free to send her down here anytime."

"Well, that's good. Come on, Foster. Let's go check on Abby."

|•|

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Abby was right there, nearly dragging Gibbs out.

"Gibbs! How did you know I found something?"

"I didn't, Abs. Now what did you find?"

"Well, Gunnery Sgt. Smith was hit on the head with a long, flat object. My guess would be plywood board, based on the tiny splinters we found in her skull. She was stabbed with a Be-Wharned knife, off of the Navy Seals website. They're sold only online, so it won't be too hard to track the purchases."

"Okay, thanks Abs," Gibbs said, as he handed her her beloved Caf-Pow!.

"I should have more for you later. I'll call you!"

"Will do. Gotta get back upstairs and make sure everyone's doing what they're supposed to be doing."

"Bye Gibbs!" She smiled at Gibbs and then shot a rude look towards Agent Foster.

|•|

Meanwhile, upstairs, Tony had finished what he needed to for Gibbs and decided to snoop around and see what he could find out about their newest agent. He pulled up the file and put it on the huge flat-screen.

"Tony. What are you doing? You're going to get in trouble! Is that Agent Foster's file?" McGee exclaimed.

"Yes, McWorryWart, it is. I'm not going to get in trouble. You are, however, if you don't get on your work. Let's see what we can find out about Agent Foster. Well, she's definitely the shortest out of all of us. She's only 5'3"."

"Actually, Very Special Agent DiNozzo, I'm 5' 2 1/2". And what are you doing looking at my file? That is confidential!" Agent Foster said, startling Tony. He quickly minimized the file, trying to make it look as if it had never been there. Her eyes bored straight into his very soul, it seemed.

"Gee...did she take lessons from Gibbs or something?" Tony thought. But what he said was, "I make it my job to worry about who is on this team, Agent Foster. I am an investigator, after all."

**SMACK!**

"You won't be anymore if you don't get back to work, DiNozzo."

"Yes, Boss. Right on it, Boss."

"Any leads?"

" Not really Boss. She was squealy clean."

"Squeaky, Ziva. Squeaky clean," interjected McGee.

"Whatever. Anyway, her Marine record was flawless as was her public record. She didn't even have a parking violation. She was not married, had no children, and none of her family lived close by."

"Keep working, guys. Foster and I are going go check out Smith's house. We'll be back soon. And Tony. If I catch you looking at Agent Foster's file, I will head-slap you into next week. Clear?"

"Crystal, Boss."

"Okay. Foster, grab your gear and let's go." Gibbs didn't even need to tell her that, though. She was already on her way to the elevator. "Maybe she won't be too bad after all," he mused to himself. "Eh. I'll still don't trust her. I'm going to have to keep a close eye on her." He grabbed his gun and hurried to the elevator, which Agent Foster was holding for him.

"Thanks," he said, almost inaudibly.

"No problem, Special Agent Gibbs. No problem at all."


	5. Chapter 5

Gibbs and Foster arrived at the victim's house. She lived fairly modestly. She had pictures of her family on the fireplace mantle. She had the stereotypical American family: a mom and dad, two children, a girl and a boy, and a golden retriever. Gibbs signaled Foster, "Here, I found something."

"What did you find, Agent Gibbs?"

"Dog tags. And they're not Smith's."

"Well, should we bring the guy in?"

"My thoughts, exactly, Agent Foster."

|•|

They brought in First Sergeant Adrian Gordon on the pretense of simply wanting more information on Smith. Gibbs sent in Ziva and Tony as the interrogators.

"Where were you at around 0230 this morning, First Sergeant Gordon?" Ziva asked.

"In bed. Where I almost always am at 0230."

"Can anyone confirm that?"

"My wife can. Is there a reason I'm here, Agents?"

"Yes. Your dog tags were found at the home your Gunnery Sergeant. Gunnery Sergeant Amanda Smith. How did you know her? And how well?" Ziva asked.

"I was her CO. She was in my platoon. She was very good at what she did. She was quiet, yet had extremely good focus for someone of that age. This is just such a shock! I can't believe she's dead! It was only yesterday when I was kicking her ass while she ran the obstacle course. Now she's dead!"

"Did you know she was pregnant?"

"Pregnant? Absolutely not! If I had known that, she would have been on desk duty!"

"Maybe you did know, Sergeant. Maybe you're the father. Maybe you killed her and the baby, so your reputation and career wouldn't go down the drain," Tony said.

"I did not have that kind of relationship with her, sir. She was my subordinate. That's it. I most certainly did NOT kill her."

"Well. There's only one way to find out! Let's get your DNA down to the lab and let's see there's a match!"

"Okay. Let's do that. You'll see that I had nothing to do with my Gunnery Sergeant's death!"

They took his DNA and sent it down to Abby. McGee called the Sergeant's wife to see if she could confirm her husband's alibi. What she told the McGee conflicted with what her husband said to Ziva and Tony. She said her husband went to bed about 2300, but woke up around 0145 and said he couldn't sleep. He went out for a run and got back around 0300.

"Well, that kinda kills his alibi," Foster snorted.

"All we have to do is get a match on his DNA and he'll be locked away for quite a while," Tony remarked.

Right then, Gibbs's phone rang. It was Abby.

"Gibbs! It's not a match for First Sergeant Gordon. Sorry! He's definitely not the baby's father. But I know who is!"

"Okay, who?"

"Guess!"

"Abby!"

"Okay! Gee, Gibbs! The father is Corporal James Kirk."

"Okay. Thanks, Abs!" Gibbs flipped his phone shut. "It's not Sergeant Gordon. Let's go ahead and release him, but I still have a feeling he's involved with this somehow. McGee, see what you can find out about a Corporal James Kirk. Then all of you, go home. It's been a long day. Be back here at 0700 sharp. We need to solve this case!"

A chorus of "Yes, Gibbs" and "Yes, Boss" rang throughout the bullpen.

|•|

Agent Foster got home, threw her stuff down in the doorway, and melted into the cool, buttery leather of her couch. Wow. It had been a tough day. She couldn't remember the last day she had felt so beat...well, unless you counted that day eight months and four days ago. Her eyes started to fill with tears. "Rachel! Keep it together! Gee whiz, you're fine! Just get over it! He's not coming back! No amount of crying will bring him back! So suck it up and keep it together!" she scolded herself. At least here there was no grumpy Gibbs, no bickering coworkers (or co-irkers as she like to call them), and no mean Abby. She wondered why the director had even put her on Agent Gibbs's team. Although she had been with the team for less than a day, she realized that she had no place there. She was the metaphorical "third wheel." There was Gibbs: the fearless, strong leader. The alpha male. Tony was the right hand man. The one who always has your back. Ziva was...well Rachel didn't quite know what Ziva was. But she fit in perfectly with the team. McGee, although slightly scrawny, was the technological brains of team. Abby, the obvious spoiled favorite, yet she provided the team with the vital information to make arrests. Ducky and Jimmy were the kind "behind-the-scenes" people. They weren't out in the spotlight making arrests, but yet their work was almost as vital as Abby's in an investigation. And Agent Rachel Foster. She was just a doctor who went through a mid-life crisis and decided to change careers. Nothing special. She doubted she would ever fit in. At least now she was alone, where she could think. And that's the way she liked it. Here she could just be herself, just be plain old Rachel, not Captain Foster, not Special Agent Foster, just Rachel.

|•|

Rachel fixed herself some dinner, leftover pasta and alfredo sauce. Then, she drew a hot bubble bath and soaked, the water absorbing all the tensions and stress of her day. After her bath, she put on a pair of sweats and a Harvard t-shirt and went to her piano. Ah. Her piano. It was a beautiful baby grand that she had restored with him...but that was a lifetime ago. She smiled to herself, sat down, and began to play. First, she warmed-up, playing all of her major and minor scales. Four octaves. Once her warm-up was complete, she began to play. Losing all awareness of time. She poured her soul out on those keys. She played sonatinas by Kuhlau and Clementi and sonatas by Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach. Finally, she moved onto the finale, playing pieces by her favorite composers: Debussy and Chopin. Strains of _The Girl with the Flaxen Hair_, _The Snow is Dancing_, _Prelude in E Flat Major (Op.9, No.2_), and many, many others floated out of the open windows, filling the crisp fall air with life and flavor. By the time Rachel stopped, it was 0130. She sighed, put up her beloved piano books, and went to bed.

**BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!**

Rachel jolted and sat up. She looked at the clock and sighed. 0500. Time to start another day.


	6. Chapter 6

It was 0615 and the NCIS squad room was eerily quiet. No people talking, phones ringing, shoes scuffling, or elevators dinging. The only sounds were the click-click of the computer keyboard and the scratch of a pen, scrawling an almost illegible signature that came from Agent Gibbs's desk. Gibbs got up and sighed. Damn. He hated paperwork. He grabbed his coffee and decided to pay the director a visit. Without knocking, he barged into the director's office. Director Vance was on the phone, and signaled Gibbs to be quiet.

"Thanks so much. I will report to you as soon as I know more. Sorry, Gibbs. That was SecNav. What can I do for you? If it's something about taking Agent Foster off your team, I'm afraid I can't do that"

"I'm not interested in taking Foster off my team. Yet. I just want to know more about her."

"I'm can't give you that information, Gibbs. She specifically told me not to tell you about her history. But I can tell you this. You two are more alike than you would think. Anything else, Gibbs?"

"Nope. Thanks, Leon."

"No problem at all."

|•|

Gibbs exited Director Vance's office, and headed back to his desk. He was about halfway down the steps before he realized that the squad room was no longer empty. He smiled to himself when he spotted his newest agent at her desk, a look of deep concentration on her face. It was only 0630. He walked over to her and asked, "Foster. What are you doing here so early?"

"Morning, Agent Gibbs. I was checking up on an idea that's been forming since last night. What if First Sergeant Gordon was in a relationship with Gunnery Sergeant Smith, and then they broke up. Smith then started another relationship with Corporal Kirk. She got pregnant and Gordon found out. He got mad, snapped, and killed Smith."

"Why didn't he kill Kirk, then, if he was jealous?"

"Oh. I didn't think of that..."

"Not a bad idea, though." Gibbs gave Rachel a small half-smile. "Did you check to see if Kirk has anything on his record?"

"Already did that...he's as clean as Smith."

"Okay. Why don't we go pick up Kirk and bring him in for questioning."

"Without the rest of the team?"

Gibbs just glared at her. "Alright, alright. Without the rest of the team. We should we leave them a note, or something..."

Gibbs sighed, picked up a pen and a sticky note from Foster's desk, and wrote, 'Going to pick up Kirk with Foster. Will be back soon. See what you can find out about Smith, Kirk, and Gordon. Gibbs' He looked at it for a moment and added, 'And Foster.' He pulled off the sticky note and stuck it to DiNozzo's computer monitor. "Grab what you need and let's go!"

|•|

The car ride to Quantico, where Corporal Kirk resided was quiet. Neither of them spoke. Gibbs drove erratically, swerving and braking, while Rachel just stared out the window. After about twenty minutes, Gibbs pulled up in front of Kirk's home. "Foster, knock on the front door. I'll go around back and make sure he doesn't try to make a break for it out of the back door."

Rachel did as her boss said, and went to the front door. She knocked. No answer. She knocked again, louder. Still, no answer. She rang the doorbell. Nothing. Suddenly, she heard a loud grunt that came from the back of the back. Drawing her weapon, she went to investigate. As she came around the house, the sight that met her eyes sent chills down her spine and made her palms start to sweat profusely. Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was unconscious and had a knife being held at his throat. It's owner none other than First Sergeant Gordon.

|•|

"Hey! Where are Gibbs and Foster?" asked Ziva as she breezed in.

"Gibbs left a note saying that he and Rachel went to Kirk's house to ask him some questions and to work on connecting the dots between Gordon, Kirk, and Smith," explained McGee.

Just then, Abby called. Tony picked up, since he was in charge when Gibbs wasn't there.

"Hey Abby, it's Tony. Have anything?"

"Hey Tony. Where's Gibbs? I need to tell him something really important."

"He's out right now. Why? What do you need to tell him?"

"Well, Gordon bought the same type of knife that killed Gunnery Sergeant Smith about three weeks ago."

"Okay. Thanks Abby. Put a Caf Pow! on my tab. Talk to you later." He pressed the "off" on the touchscreen of his phone. "Ziva. Check and see where First Sergeant Gordon is. He bought the same knife that killed Gunnery Sergeant Smith about three weeks ago. His alibi is non-existent and he has the same type of murder weapon. We need to bring him in for further questioning."

"Uh, Tony?"

"Yes, Ziva?"

"There's a slight problem. He didn't show up for work this morning. Want me to put out a BOLO out on his car?"

"Yep. McGee, call Gibbs and tell him what we found."

"Tony."

"What McGee!"

"Well...Gibbs isn't answering his phone. Rule 3 is 'Never be unreachable'. And he never breaks his own rules. Ever."

"Try Rachel's cell. Maybe she'll pick up. Ziva! Any hits on the BOLO?"

"Nothing yet, Tony," sighed Ziva.

"McGee?"

"Neither of them are answering their phones!"

"Okay, guys. Grab your gear. Let's go to Kirk's house first and make sure Gibbs and Rachel are okay. I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason why Gibbs and Rachel aren't picking up their phones..." Despite Tony's cheerful attitude, fear started to creep in. What if something had happened. He shook his head, trying to clear his head. Grabbing his backpack and gun, he headed behind the rest of his team into the elevator.


	7. Chapter 7

Rachel stood there, frozen. Finally, she broke out of her reverie. "Gordon. Put the knife down! Put it down!" She aimed her weapon at Gordon's head.

"You wouldn't shoot with your boss being held as a hostage," he snarled.

"Why are you doing this?"

"She cheated on me! She had a child with...with that bastard!"

"Who? Kirk?"

"Yes, Kirk! That bastard..."

"How do you know it wasn't your baby?"

"She said she was two and a half months along. Two and a half months ago, I was in Iraq for a diplomatic mission. I did a little digging and found out that my girlfriend had cheated on me!"

"So you killed her? To get her bak for cheating?"

"I just snapped! After she told me the 'Big News,' I couldn't take it. I knocked her unconscious, then I, you know, had sex with her. I grabbed my knife and finished her off. Serves her right for cheating on me. I had just finished off Lover Boy when your boss came around the corner. He saw the mess and before I knew what was happening, he managed to get in a few punches. Then I knocked him in the head with a baseball bat, that I had just finished using on Kirk."

"Let my boss go! You're going to go to prison for the rest of your life, regardless. If you kill a federal agent, you will NEVER see the light of day again."

Gordon lifted the knife to his throat.

"No! Gordon! Put it down! Don't do this!"

He smiled sadistically, and before Rachel could do anything, he drew it across his throat, ending his life and entering into eternity.

"Damn!" Before she could do anything else, Tony, Ziva, and McGee pulled up.

"Gibbs!" Ziva screeched as she rushed over to him. "Rachel! What the hell happened? Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"I was sort-of preoccupied. I felt that if I took my attention off of Gibbs and Gordon for even a second, Gordon would take advantage of that. I had to keep myself focused," Rachel snapped.

She then related the story of Gordon's ambush of Gibbs, confession, and suicide.

"I was just about to check Gibbs and make sure he was okay. I guess you'll need to call Ducky so he can take care of the bodies."

Rachel examined Gibbs and stated that he had a mild concussion and the only lasting effect would be a major headache when he regained consciousness.

"I'll give him some Tylenol when we get back to the Navy Yard, but other than that he should be good..." sighed Rachel. And she thought yesterday had been rough.

"How could you let Gibbs be ambushed! You should've been right there with him!" yelled Tony.

"Gibbs told me to go and knock on the front door. I knocked multiple times, but no answer. I heard a scuffle around back and when I went to check on it, Gordon was holding a knife to Gibbs's throat. I was following orders, Agent DiNozzo."

The pair heard a groan. When they turned around, Gibbs was sitting up and glaring at them.

"Hey, Boss! Glad you could finally join us!"

"What the hell happened, Foster? The last thing I remember is finding Corporal Kirk dead on his back deck."

Rachel related, yet again, how Gordon had knocked Gibbs unconscious after murdering Kirk, confessed, then killed himself.

"Foster. With me. We're going back to the Navy Yard. Tony, Ziva, and McGee are capable of taking care of the rest of this mess. I'm assuming Tony got your statement?"

"Yeah, he did. But I'm driving on the way back. Other than the fact that you nearly killed me on the way here, you can't be driving with that concussion."

Gibbs gave a few final orders to the rest of his team, got in the passenger side of the car, and they were off.


	8. Chapter 8

The car ride was silent. Neither of them spoke. They just drove. As soon as they got in the elevator to go to the bull pen, Gibbs flipped the emergency stop switch.

"Foster. You okay? It's hard for everyone, let alone a rookie agent, to handle a volatile hostage situation. Many hostage situations normally don't turn out as well as they did this time." Gibbs intense stare bored into every fiber of Rachel's being. She shrugged and gave a half-smile.

"It wasn't easy. But I've seen worse. A lot worse. I'll be fine."

"My door is always open, if you need anything."

"Thanks, Gibbs. I'll remember that." She gave Gibbs one of her most charming smiles and flipped the switch, continuing the elevator's journey upwards.

|•|

Rachel walked through her door. It was only 1500. Gibbs had sent her home because she was, in his words, "distracted, unfocused, and just plain tired." She had tried to fight it, claiming that she was fine, but Gibbs ordered her to go home and wouldn't take no for an answer.

Wow. And she thought yesterday had been rough. Ha! She felt like her life was a complete joke, and she was just waiting for the punchline. She changed out of her work clothes into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Might as well get comfortable. She grabbed her camera and tripod, a jacket, and her keys. Then, she got into her car and went to one of her favorite places: Great Falls Park.

|•|

Rachel stepped out of her car, inhaling the crisp fall air. The leaves were in their peak. Shimmering golds and yellows, deep reds, and vibrant oranges surrounded her, as they swirled to the ground in the fall breeze. Oh, how she loved fall. The leaves changing their color, the many festivals, the cooler weather, apple orchards...she smiled to herself. _He_ had loved fall, too. Even more than she did. _He_ was the one who really helped her fall in love with fall. As she headed onto the trail, one she had walked hundreds of times, she remembered her very first time visiting the park. It had been another crisp day in October, oh so many lifetimes ago.

_Flashback..._

_"What do you mean you've never been to Great Falls park? That's really sad. We have to go, before we both leave," a young man, dressed in his Marine utility uniform said."Come on. We can go now. There's this really awesome trail that has a stream running alongside it and absolutely gorgeous waterfalls! I'll even let you bring your camera and tripod!"_

_A petite young Asian woman beside him, obviously his wife, judging from the ring on her left ring finger that glinted in the bright sunlight, laughed and said, "Oh, Simon. You certainly do know how to persuade me. We'll go. Just promise me you won't get impatient with my photography. Remember last time?"_

_The Marine winced, obviously remembering an unpleasant experience. "Rachel. You know I didn't do it on purpose!" He gave her his best "sad-puppydog" look._

_Rachel laughed and shook her head. "I know. You just have to be patient. Photography allows me to forget all my problems for a little while. I'm under SO much stress right now. You're shipping out to Iraq in less than a week. Then, after that, I have only anther week until I leave for Afghanistan..." She began to rattle off her to-do list: "We have to cancel our lease. Put our crap in storage. Pack our stuff. Get all of our shots, and have our physicals done. Say all our 'Goodbyes' and 'See you soons.' I only hope I get some good pictures, because I need something to remember DC by."_

_"Honey. What about the 'Memories of DC' album? Doesn't that have over a thousand pictures in it? Just relax, and enjoy today. As the famous quote goes, 'Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why..."_

_"'It's called the present," the young woman finished. The Marine gave one of his rare, genuine smiles and pulled his wife into a long, passionate kiss. "Are you ready for another adventure, Commander Foster?"_

_"Always, Gunnery Sergeant McDonald."_

_Three hours later..._

_"Oh Simon, that was wonderful. Thank you so much. I can't wait to upload these photos onto the computer. I know you have some things to finish up on base, now. See you when you get home!"_

_"Okay, honey. See you soon!" They kissed again, and each went their separate ways._

|•|

As she walked along the trail, after the memories subsided, Rachel thought about her day. She had told Gibbs she had seen worse. Which was true. She had seen worse. Much worse. Her skin crawled just thinking about everything she had seen in her life. Especially concerning her last deployment. She shook her head, as if trying to fling the gruesome memories from her head. She pulled her jacket around her more tightly, and continued to walk, as more memories flooded her mind.

|•|

After her walk, Rachel ate her dinner and popped in one of her favorite movies, _The Two Towers_. Somehow, she just couldn't enjoy the movie like she normally did. She sighed and pulled the slip of paper Gibb's had given her out if her purse.

_145 Freedom Ln. Falls Church, VA. My door is always open. Most likely I'll be in my basement_

As she gathered her purse, keys, and jacket, she muttered to herself, "Wow. This is getting pathetic. I'm going to visit my boss, _still_ doesn't like me. I must really desperate. Well, it's time for an adventure."

**A/N: Again, many thanks for reading this far! Please rate and review! Love all of y'all! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Gibbs looked up from sanding his boat. He saw Agent Foster, at the top of his steps, contemplating whether to come down or not. He was surprised she had come, considering how pissed she had been when he had sent her home, earlier that day. He had been working on his boat for about an hour, when he heard unfamiliar footsteps upstairs. They were hesitant, yet firm. He ruled out DiNozzo, because a herd of stampeding elephants was quieter than he was when he walked. McGee always knocked, and his steps were quiet and timid. Ziva, well, you never knew Ziva had even come in until she materialized right next to you. Abby's were quick and clunky, from those gigantic boots that she always wore. These unfamiliar footsteps almost sounded like Jenny's. He sighed. Unless Jenny had come back from the dead, it wasn't her. But the way this stranger walked, slowly, but with authority, reminded him greatly of his former flame. Oh well. Whoever it was would come down soon enough. He thought about his newest agent. A doctor. Something must've happened that made her want to change careers. Something huge. People don't just spend 8+ years of their lives going through college, medical school, internship, and residency to then throw that away only eight years after their career began. But there was also something that made her want continue with medicine, hence the Navy Reserves. She also demanded respect. She wasn't going to be walked over. She wanted the same respect that her peers got. **

"Gibbs?" a quiet voice said.

He looked over, and Agent Foster was standing over by the edge of his boat.

"You build boats? That's...interesting."

Gibbs snorted. He'd been told this many times, but normally not that politely.

"Yeah. It helps me relax. What can I do for you?" He reached for his bottle of bourbon and two empty Mason jars. He poured a little in each jar and kept one for himself, and the other he held out for Agent Foster. To his surprise, she shook her head.

"I really don't drink. I don't need another thing to get addicted to."

Gibbs shrugged and poured what would've been Foster's bourbon into his own glass.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just needed to think. My house's too quiet, and all of my other thinking places are either closed or occupied. I figured I might as well see if I could think here."

"It's a good place for thinking. I've done a lot that down here."

He handed Foster a sander and they both worked quietly, until Foster broke the silence.

"What's her name?"

The question surprised him.

"Whose?"

"The boat."

"Don't know yet."

"Have you made any others?"

"Yeah. Five, actually. Although I burned three of them."

"Why?"

"They weren't what I had hoped them to be," was his reply. And it was true. They hadn't been what he had wanted.

"What about the other two?"

"I set them free."

"So countless hours of sanding and hammering and you have absolutely nothing to show for it?"

Gibbs look was all the answer she needed. All of a sudden, they heard footsteps upstairs. They were quick and excitable.

"Abby," Gibbs confirmed.

"I have to go," Foster said suddenly. "Thanks for letting me just think. It was very relaxing."

|•|

Rachel headed up the stairs and ran straight into Abby.

"What are you doing here?" Abby's voice dripped with ice.

"Gibbs said his door was open, and I didn't think I had to have your permission to make a visit."

"I heard you saved Gibbs's life."

"I guess you could say that. It was more like I kept him from getting killed."

"Well, I'm sure you feel like a hero, now. You probably feel like you fit in with Team Gibbs. Let me make this clear. You don't!"

"Okay, fine. Maybe I don't. But maybe I have something to add to this team. Maybe if you would stop judging me for just one moment, you could see it! Good night, Ms. Scuito."

|•|

Gibbs heard the arguing, but didn't get involved. Might as well let those two figure it out. He knew from experience to NEVER get between two angry women! He sighed heavily, swigged a sip of bourbon, and braced for the inevitable.

"Gibbs."

"Hey, Abs."

"How are you?"

"I'm fine. I have a headache, but nothing that bourbon can't fix."

"I can't believe Foster didn't have your back today. You could've been killed, Gibbs!" Abby's bright green eyes started to fill with tears.

"Abs. It wasn't her fault. I told her to go to the front door and knock. She was following my orders. If she hadn't been, I probably wouldn't be alive right now."

"But you almost died!"

"Yeah, almost. But I didn't. Don't be so hard on her, Abs."

"Easy for you to say. She's probably your new favorite."

"Abs. Look at me. She is not my favorite. That place will always be yours and only yours. That said, give her a chance. She just might surprise all of us."


	10. Chapter 10

The rest of the week was fairly quiet. No major cases came up. The team reviewed cold cases and caught up on paperwork. By Thursday, everyone started to get bored.

"TONY!"

"Yes, Agent Foster?"

"I swear if you shoot one more rubber band at me I will break your hand! Leave me alone! I'm trying to finish my paperwork so I can get the hell out of here!"

"Someone's a little grumpy today. Get up on the wrong side of the bed, Sweetheart?"

"I am NOT grumpy and if you call me 'Sweetheart' again, your hand is not the only thing that's going to get broken!"

"Oooh! I am sooooo scared!"

"You better be."

"Will you two shut up and do your work!" McGee snapped.

"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, too, McCrankyPants?"

"Shut up, Tony or I swear, I will join Rachel in hurting you!"

"As will I," muttered Ziva, who was tired of Tony chucking office supplies at her head.

"Okay, okay. Getting back to work! Sheesh. Can't a guy have some fun around the work place?"

"Not in my workplace," Gibbs said as he strode in from getting his third cup of coffee for the day. "Everyone, stop messing around and get back to work!"

"Yes, Boss."

"On it, Boss."

"Yes, Gibbs."

"Of course, Agent Gibbs."

"Foster, I need to talk with you."

"Oooh! Someone's in trouble!"

SMACK!

"And getting back to work, Boss."

"Yes, Agent Gibbs?" said Rachel.

"I see you have off tomorrow?" Gibbs looked at her intently.

"Yeah. I have Reserves at Walter Reed this weekend. I have a 24-hour shift from 0700 on Friday to 0700 on Saturday. Then I have a 24-hour 'downtime' before I have to go in for another 24-hour shift from 0700 on Sunday to 0700 on Monday."

"Will you be in on Monday?"

"I might be a little late,depending on how things go in the ER, but yeah, I should be. Why?"

"You'll just have finished another 24-hour shift. You'll be exhausted. Are you sure you'll be able to do your job?"

"I normally get a couple hours of sleep on my shift. 24-hour shifts aren't that bad. I've worked 36 hours straight, with absolutely no sleep. I'll be fine."

Gibbs nodded and motioned back to her desk. "Okay. Get back to work!"

"Agent Gibbs. If a case does come up and you need me, just call me and I'll be there A.S.A.P." Rachel walked back to her desk, sat down, and began working again. About an hour later, she declared triumphantly, "It looks like my work here is done! See y'all on Monday!"

Monday: 0600 hours

Rachel sank the into the broken-down couch in the break room. So much for sleeping on shift. Ha! There had been case after case after case, and this was the first time she had gotten to sit down since 2300.

"Gibbs is going kill me," she muttered under her breath. She had just begin to doze, when suddenly, her pager went off. "Damnit!" she swore.

She ran out to the nurse's station. "What is it?"

"Young female victim coming in, shot twice in the chest. ETA, about 5 minutes," the nurse explained.

"Okay. Set up Trauma room 3, get the OR on stand-by, and grab Dr. White. He needs the experience."

The nurse nodded and went to go wake up Dr. White. Dr. White was a resident here at Walter Reed. Normally, he followed around Dr. Hopkins, but since Dr. Hopkins was on vacation in the beautiful Smokey Mountains of Tennessee, he was following Rachel around for her shifts and driving her absolutely insane.

|•|

Rachel sighed and washed her hands. Blood mixed with water, as it swirled down the drain. She had kept the young petty officer ("Amelia," she reminded herself) alive. Now, she was in the OR. Only time would tell if Amelia would make it. Hopefully, she would pull through and make a full recovery. The bullets had done so much damage. Rachel shuddered, thinking of the last time she had encountered such bad bullet wounds. She had been forced to do a thoracotomy, because Amelia's pulse kept dropping. It had dropped from 100 to 5 in less than two minutes. Once Amelia was opened up, she had found a huge gaping hole in Amelia's heart. She had had to stitch the hole closed, until the cardio-thoracic surgeon was able to take Amelia up to the OR. She looked down at her navy scrubs, which were spattered with Amelia's blood. So much blood. They had called the blood bank, again and again, asking for more blood. But there was never enough. Blood had gotten everywhere. All over her, her hair, her face, her scrubs, her shoes, the floor, Dr. White, Amy, the nurse, and the glass viewing window in the exam room. Well. She wasn't dead yet. That was always a good sign. "Don't be so cynical!" she reminded herself. Her pager went off. Ugh. Not again. It was 0705 and she still had to shower and change before she could leave for work. Reluctantly, she made her way to the nurse's station.

"What now," she asked exhaustedly.

"There's a man who insists on seeing you. He refuses to speak to anyone besides you."

"Can it wait? I have to be at work in, like, forty-five minutes. And I still have to shower."

"He says it's extremely urgent. He was extremely agitated," the nurse insisted.

Rachel sighed heavily and wondered why everyone always need her. There was more than one doctor here...sheesh. "Put him in Dr. Hopkins office. I'll be there as soon as I can. I need to get some of this blood off of me, so I don't freak the guy out."

"Will do, Dr. Foster."

|•|

Rachel hesitated as she opened the door to Dr. Hopkin's office. Something just didn't feel right. Oh well. What could go wrong? She turned the knob and entered. She stopped, frozen in her tracks. There staring her straight in the face was the business end of a gun.

"Remember me?" a voice sneered.


	11. Chapter 11

Rachel screamed, "Code Silver!" as loud as she could, turned around, and tried to run out of the office. She felt a strong hand grab the back of her scrubs, and the cold metal of the gun's muzzle against her head**. **

"Don't do that again, Dr. Foster. Next time I won't be as gentle. Attention everyone! If you so much as think of coming in here and rescuing Dr. Foster, she'll be dead before you even know what happened."

"Who are you and why are you doing this?" Rachel asked, trying to stall for time, anything to try and distract her captor.

"You know who I am. And you know why, too. Just remember what happened two years ago today."

"I DON'T know who you are and I don't know what happened two years ago. I know that two years ago, I was working in the ER at Bethesda, ready to ship out on my second nine-month deployment as a Flight Surgeon with a company of Marines."

"Think, Dr. Foster, think."

|•|

Gibbs's cell phone rang as he walked into the bull pen.

"Gibbs. Yeah, uh huh. Be there in 15." He hung up and said to his team, "Grab your gear! We have a hostage situation over at Walter Reed. A gunman is holding one of the doctor's hostage. Where's Foster? She should be here by now. Oh well. She won't have to travel far. Tony, call her on the way and fill her in."

"Yes, Boss."

|•|

Gibbs's team walked into the ER of Walter Reed National Medical Center, which was the merger between Bethesda Naval Hospital and Walter Reed Army Medical Center. Each team member shuddered, remembering unpleasant memories of this place.

"Tony, did you get a hold of Foster?"

"No, Boss. She's not picking up."

"Call her again."

"I did, Boss. Five times. She won't pick up!"

"Well, keep calling her until she does!"

The team went over to the area roped off and went to the person who looked like he was in charge.

"Excuse me. NCIS. I'm Special Agent Gibbs, and these are my agents, Special Agents David, DiNozzo, and McGee."

"Hello, Agent Gibbs. Thanks for coming so quickly. I'm Scott Alexander, head of security here at Walter Reed. At approximately 0723 this morning, one of our doctors went into this office," motioning to a door with a plaque that said 'Dr. Victor Hopkins,' "for a personal meeting. Less than a minute later, she came out and screamed, 'Code Silver,' the code we use when there is a combative person or an assault. A gunman then pulled her back into the office, pointed the gun at her head, and issued a warning, saying that if anyone tried to rescue the doctor, she would be killed. We locked down this area and called you guys."

"What's the doctor's name?"

"She's one of our Reservists, although she's worked here full-time before. Her name is Dr. Rachel Foster."


	12. Chapter 12

Gibbs's team stared at one another in astonishment.

"Well, we know why Rachel isn't answering her phone..." Tony remarked dryly.

"Do you know Dr. Foster?" asked Alexander.

"Uh...yeah. She's now working at NCIS as a special agent," McGee replied.

"Oh," was the subdued reply.

Finally, it was determined that was time to make contact.

|•|

"NCIS! Special Agent Gibbs! Let Dr. Foster go! Then, put your weapon down and come out with your hands in the air!"

Rachel jumped, startled from all the sudden noise. "Great...not only am I being held hostage for a unknown reason, but my boss is doing the negotiations...perfect," she thought.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Special Agent Gibbs. Dr. Foster has to pay for what she did to me and my family," replied her captor with a look of grim determination on his face.

|•|

Gibbs sighed. Dr. Hopkins had thankfully installed a security camera in his office, but they needed ears in there, too. How in the world...all of a sudden his musings were cut short by Foster's indignant cry, "How in the world do you expect me to know what happened two years ago! I don't even know happened yesterday! It would help if I had some food, you know. I haven't had anything to eat 2200 last night." There was a muffled reply, and the gunman appeared holding Foster with a gun to her head.

"She's hungry. Get her something to eat. Don't try any funny business," he ordered. With that, he and Foster were gone.

"We can get some ears in there now," Gibbs remarked. "McGee, get a bug ready. DiNozzo, go get her some food from the cafeteria. She's hungry. And don't forget coffee. I think we're all gonna need it. Ziva, look through the hospital's records and see what happened two years ago that would make this guy so angry."

"Seriously, Boss? The cafeteria? Ewww..." Tony whined.

"DINOZZO! NOW!" Gibbs roared impatiently.

"Yes, Boss. Leaving now, Boss."

|•|

When Tony came back, his hands were completely full. He had a huge bag filled with all sorts of goodies from the cafeteria. Most importantly, however, he had with him five steaming, extra-large, bold roast Jamaican coffees. "Here you go Boss...they even had your brand! I got one for Rachel, too. She seems like she really needs it."

"Thanks, Tony. She probably does need it. Doctors live on coffee. They drink almost as much as Marines. McGee. You ready?"

"Yeah, Boss. Everything's in place."

"Ziva, you found anything yet?"

"Not yet, Gibbs. I'm still searching. It is taking forever for these files to load." Ziva replied.

"Work faster, Ziva! We need end this soon, before there's any irreversible damage. Okay, everyone! Let's get this show on the road! Hey! Hey you in there with Dr. Foster. We have her food," Gibbs said.

The door opened, again Foster's captor held her at gunpoint. The agents drew their weapons, each searching for a kill shot. He looked at Gibbs and instructed, "Put your weapon down and tell your agents to put their weapons down," Gibbs reluctantly motioned for everyone to stand down. "And walk slowly towards the door, with the food. Your arms must be visible at all times. Leave the food about ten feet away from the door. Then, go back to the rest of your team. If you follow my instructions, nobody gets hurt."

Gibbs nodded, laid his gun down, grabbed the food, and walked slowly towards the door. He dropped the bag, right where he was ordered to. Then, he slowly backed away. The gunman pulled Rachel with him as he moved to grab the bag of food. Suddenly, Gibbs's attention was diverted. Rachel's hands were moving, ever so slightly, so she wouldn't draw her captor's attention. Gibbs finally realized that she was signing to him. He quickly translated her rapid, frantic movements. "No other exit. Let me negotiate. I can do this. Give me about four hours. After that, do what you have to do." Gibbs nodded, showing her he understood her message. Rachel smiled, as she was pulled back into the room that was soon to become a living hell.

"We're in, Boss. We're in."


	13. Chapter 13

"God...I've never seen anyone eat that fast...except maybe in military school. Look at her go!" Tony remarked, impressed.

"She must have been starving! She said she hadn't eaten since 10 o'clock last night," replied McGee, as he adjusted the volume on his headset.

Once Foster finished her food, the gunman started to speak. Gibbs motioned for McGee to turn the volume up, so everyone could hear.

"So. Are you rejuvenated?" her captor sneered.

"Yes. I am," was the curt reply.

"Are you sure you don't remember what happened two years ago today?"

Foster shook her head again, clearly not knowing what the man wanted.

"Two years ago today, you gave the news that killed my wife and ruined my life! Two years ago, Major Sophia Langley was brought in complaining of a severe pain in her abdomen and pelvis. You ran some tests on her and came to the conclusion that she had ovarian cancer."

|•|

Rachel nodded, finally remembering the incident.

_Flashback..._

_Ana, the head nurse, motioned to her as Rachel pulled the curtain to the observation room._

_"Doctor. We have a woman coming with severe abdominal/pelvic pain. ETA 3 min."_

_Rachel nodded and said, "Thanks, Ana. Get Room 2 ready."_

_"Yes, Doctor!"_

_The doors of the ER opened with a 'whoosh.' A woman was rushed in on a gurney. She was writhing with pain. A man, obviously her husband, held her hand as he ran along the gurney ._

_"Ana! Get her 5 mg of morphine and start her on fluids!"_

_"Yes, Doctor."_

_"Hello. I'm Doctor Foster. I understand you're in a lot of discomfort..."_

_"Discomfort! DISCOMFORT! She is in PAIN! Do something!" the woman's husband angrily interjected._

_"Sir. Her pain medicine is coming right now. Here it is. Now, Major..."_

_"She's Major Sophia Langley, and I'm her husband, Admiral Edward Langley."_

_"Okay, Major Langley, this will sting a little, but the medicine should begin taking effect almost immediately."_

_Once the medicine took effect, Major Langley was able to relax and answer questions._

_"Now, can you tell me exactly what's wrong. How long has this pain been going on?"_

_The woman weakly answered, "I've been having a lot of abdominal and pelvic discomfort for the past few weeks..."_

_"Describe 'discomfort' please."_

_"A lot of pressure in my abdomen. It feels like someone's constantly pushing on my abdomen. And my pelvis aches. A dull, constant, radiating ache. I've also had some vaginal bleeding...and I'm already in menopause. My clothes are constantly getting tighter and tighter. I don't know what's happening!"_

_"Okay, ma'am. I'm going to do a couple of tests, and I'll be back with the results in a few hours. I have to drive some blood for one of them, but I'm also going to send you for an ultrasound. The nurse will be here in a couple minutes to draw your blood, then the ultrasound technician should be here in about forty-five minutes. I'll be back soon to discuss your test results. Then we'll decide what to do from there."_

_She observed the blood being drawn, then pulled the curtain to the observation room shut, and slumped against the wall. She had a feeling she knew exactly what it was. And she desperately hoped she was wrong._

_However, a few hours later when the results came back, Rachel's diagnosis was confirmed. This woman had ovarian cancer. A tumor had shown up on the ultrasound. The blood test had just confirmed it. Now she had to break this heart-breaking news. Sometimes she really hated her job. She grabbed the chart, took a deep breath, and pulled back the curtain._

_"Major, Admiral. I'm afraid I have some bad news. Major, you have cancer" She paused for a moment, allowing them to absorb the news. She internally cringed, as she saw the Major's face crumble. "You have Stage Two ovarian cancer. I'm sorry, Major. I really am. I know this is hard to talk about now, but there are a lot of treatment options. And you need to choose one soon. I've referred you to a specialist, Dr. George Gregory. He has had a lot of experience with ovarian cancer. If anyone can find a way to help you beat this, it's him. You will beat this. It will be a struggle. It will be hard. But it's won't be impossible. You can beat this. You will beat this! I know you will! Your appointment is at 0900, tomorrow morning. Let's get you discharged, so you can prepare for your appointment. And Major," Rachel saulted, "Semper fortis."_

|•|

Rachel's attention was abruptly brought back to the present by a glare from her captor.

"Ag, yes. You're Admiral Langley. I remember that day perfectly. I just needed a prompt. Since you're here holding me at gunpoint, I assume that something didn't go quite right?"

"She went to her consult, but refused treatment. She was in major denial. If she refused to acknowledge she had cancer, in her mind, it wasn't there. She went back to work, but wasn't there more than four hours before she received news of her honorable discharge. The Navy discharged her less than one day after she had gotten the_ news_. She couldn't cope. Everything she had worked for all her life had been destroyed with only three words. _You. Have. Cancer._ She fell into a deep depression. She refused to get out of bed. Refused to eat. Refused to bathe. Wouldn't talk with anybody, except to complain and blame people. She blamed everyone around her for this, this _disease_, this _thing_ destroying her from the inside out. She blamed me. The kids. Her CO. The Navy. The world. God. And you. Especially you. God, she hated you. You took away everything that she had worked so hard for. She devoted the rest of her life on finding a way to ruin yours. She did a lot of research on you.

She discovered you were abandoned in Changsha, Hunan, China. You were adopted by two loving parents, Peter and Debby at nine months. You were an only child, who loved to read, hated to sweat, and was exceptionally bright. You were public-schooled for kindergarten and first grade, then home schooled until you graduated high school. You played piano, which you started in first grade, and violin, which you picked up in seventh grade. You started to play soccer in eighth grade for a home school girl's soccer team. You played violin, then piano in the local youth orchestra. You were actually Piano Principal all through high school. You got third chair in First Violin by your senior year. Not bad for only playing for a little less than six years. Actually quite impressive. You also won a contest and got to play piano at Carnegie Hall. I saw the video. Your rendition of _Romeo and Juliet_ by Prokofiev was absolutely stunning. I also like your Mozart sonata. You ran your own photography business. You became pretty famous in the world of photography. You had a special feature, on what was it, the Appalacian Mountains, in_ National Geographic_ at only seventeen. You were also quite academically gifted. You graduated high school with an associate's degree from your local community college. You had a 4.23 GPA and a 2200 SAT score. I personally don't know how you kept up with everything. it must've been quite difficult. After graduating high school, you went to University of Virginia and majored in Biology and minored in Chemistry and Piano Performance. You graduated there with honors and a 4.0 GPA. Then, you got the HPSP scholarship through the Navy and were able to attend Harvard School of Medicine. You graduated med school with a 3.9 GPA. Again, quite a feat. Then you completed your internship and residency in the Emergency Room of the then Bethesda Naval Hospital. After completing all of that, you got an opportunity to be a Flight Surgeon for a company of Marines for a nine-month deployment. You immediately jumped on that chance. Should I go on, Doctor Rachel Fang-Hua Foster? Why don't you pick up from here?"

|•|

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading this far! It really means a lot! I absolutely LOVE all of the reviews, favorites, and follows! They absolutely make my day! Please keep them coming! I love all you guys so much! Thanks again! :) :) :)**

**Also, for more information on ovarian cancer, please visit . Thank you. **


	14. Chapter 14

"There's nothing to tell. A woman was having trouble in childbirth, so I went to help her. When I got there, there was no woman there. I couldn't find my way back. A wandering nomadic tribe found me and took me in. Eventually, I found my way back to base," Rachel shrugged.

"You were gone for over six months! You disappeared then all of a sudden showed back up! No explanation. You looked like a mess. There were signs of sexual assault. You would say nothing about what happened. It must've been some tribe. Personally, I think that's a whole lot of bull, but there's nothing that can dispprove what you said."

"I have nothing more to say on this subject. Get on with my life narrative, will you? I don't have all day."

Admiral Langley glared at her, but it was obvious that he was going to finish his story.

"You came back from that deployment. You accepted a position as an ER doctor, here, at the newly merged Walter Reed National Medical Center. Then you met your husband." Rachel looked startled. Admiral Langley gave a small smile, happy that he had finally surprised the doctor. "Two years ago, when you diagnosed my wife, you had on a wedding band."

"You're right. I was married. But not anymore," Rachel held up her left hand, wriggling her empty ring finger.

"You completed two more deployments out in the Middle East. The last one ended in tragedy, didn't it? Didn't an insurgent infiltrate the compound and blow himself up in mess hall only a few hours before deployment was over. That was only about eight months ago."

Rachel's jaw clenched. "Eight months, eleven days," she spat.

"Let's talk more about your husband. Neither my wife nor I never found out anything about him."

Rachel shrugged as nonchalantly as possible. "He's no longer in the picture. I have no contact with him. He's dead to me. Tell me more about your wife. What ever happened to her?"

"We went back to Dr. Gregory, about six months after her initial diagnosis. He determined that my wife's cancer had spread throughout her body. There was nothing that could be done. She had six months left. Six months! Six excruciating months to watch her waste away. To change from the beautiful, vivacious woman she was to the thin, anguished, bed-ridden woman she was to be. She reacted better to the news than I did. She was surprisingly calm. When we got home, she went to change, and I went to make lunch. Grilled cheese and tomato soup. Her favorite," he remembered fondly. Then his voice took a bitter edge. "When I called her for lunch, she didn't answer. I went upstairs and her door was closed. I pushed opened it, and there she was. Hanging from the ceiling." He shuddered. "I immediately felt for a pulse, but she was already gone. She left a suicide note. Here. Read it." Admiral Langley rummaged through his pockets, finally pulling out a well-worn, tear-stained piece of paper.

_My Dearest Husband,_

_You were the best husband a woman could ever ask for. That's why I did this. I couldn't bear for you to watch me slip away. Slowly. Painfully. Wondering constantly if I would take one more breath. I'll miss you. I love you with all my heart. The only thing I ask is that you carry out my plan. Please. That's all I ask. See you on the other side._

_Love,_

_Sophia_

|•|

Gibbs's cell phone rang.

"Gibbs."

"Special Agent Gibbs," came Director Vance's icy voice. "Were you going to let me know that there was a hostage situation with an NCIS agent? Let alone _your_ agent! Your _newest_ agent!"

"I have this situation under control. Rachel is negotiating for her release right now. She's doing a pretty damn good job. We'll go in if we need to. Gotta go, Vance," and he flipped his phone shut. It had been almost two-and-a-half hours. "She better hurry it up!" he muttered to himself.

|•|

"I'm guessing your wife's plans included holding me hostage?"

"She thought if you died, then your husband would feel the same pain that I'm feeling right now."

Rachel smiled sadly. "I have no contact with my husband. He left me. He probably wouldn't know that I died. Probably wouldn't care either."

Admiral Langley looked at her. "What do you mean your husband _left_ you? Define 'left'."

"Left. As in abandoned me when I needed him most. As in didn't care what happened to me."

The Admiral grabbed Rachel, and held the gun to her head as he dragged her to the door. "Well. I guess it's time to finish this once and for all."


	15. Chapter 15

"Uh, Boss. They're coming out!" warned McGee. The agents pulled out their weapons, and pointed them at the door that was slowly opening.

"Admiral Langley! Let Dr. Foster go! Put your weapon down and put your hands in the air!" Gibbs instructed. Admiral Langley. The Admiral smiled sadly. He whispered something in Foster's ear, and then he released her. She stood there for a moment, stunned. Then he raised his gun and aimed.

"I'm sorry, Sophia. I'll see you soon!" the Admiral said as four shots rang out.

**BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!**

|•|

Four shots rang out. Rachel winced as a spray of warm blood covered her neck and back. She turned around and the man who had held her hostage for almost three hours was laying on the ground. Her instincts kicked in. She ran over, and felt for a pulse.

"He has a pulse! It's weak and thready! Nurse! We need a gurney here stat! Get a trauma room ready! Stat! Come on people! Move!"

Two nurses ran towards her, pushing a gurney. They gently lifted the Admiral onto the gurney and wheeled into Trauma Room 3.

"Get an IV started! 5 mg of succinylcholine, 5 mg of morphine, and 5 mg of amoxicillin. Let me get the trach tube in him, and then one of you needs to bag him! Hey you! Yeah, you!" Rachel called to a passing nurse. "We need five pints of O negative blood stat!" The nurse nodded and ran off in the direction of the blood bank.

"Doctor. His pulse is dropping. 105. 99. 87. 76. 54. 49. 32."

Rachel interrupted the nurse's running commentary of the Admiral's pulse. "Crap. We're going to have to a thoracotomy. Again. I mean, seriously. Okay. Grab the face shields. We're going to need them. Got that kit?" she asked the nurse. "Oh. Good! The blood's here! Hook it up quickly. He's losing a lot of blood!" The nurse who had gone to retrieve the blood nodded. The other nurse handed her the thoracotomy kit. She grabbed the scalpel, and carefully started to cut the man's chest. She inserted the rib spreader, and winced as she heard the man's ribs crack and pop as they were spread apart. "Crap," she muttered. There was blood everywhere in the chest cavity. "Okay. We need to find out where this blood is coming from." She gently picked up his heart and turned it slightly. "Crap. Crap. Crap." There was a gigantic hole in the man's heart where a bullet had entered the heart. "I don't see an exit wound. I got to get this bullet out, then get him up to the cardio-thoracic surgeon." Rachel could see where the other bullets had pierced. Two had entered the man's left lung. The third had come in slightly above the right atrium. However, each of the wounds had an exit wound. "Get me those forceps!" She grabbed them from the nurse's outstretched hand, and went straight into the hole. She gently prodded, feeling for the bullet. Finally, the forceps brushed against something metal. "Yes!" She grabbed the bullet firmly, and slowly backed the forceps out of the hole. She dropped the offending object into the tray that lay next to her. "I'm going to need one of y'all to plug this hole with your finger as I stitch this hole up. Did you call the cardio-thoracic surgeon yet? We're going to need him stat!"

**BEEEEEEEEP!**

"Shit!" Rachel swore. The Admiral's heart had stopped. "Oh no you don't, Admiral. Come on!" She started internal cardiac massage, essentially manually pumping the Admiral's blood throughout his body.

"The cardio-thoracic surgeon will be ready in about five!" called a nurse.

**BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!**

The heart monitor began to show a faint pulse once again.

"He's got a pulse, Doctor," said one of the nurses.

"Okay. Good. Let's get this hole stitched up and get him to the surgeon ASAP!" One of the nurses, her ID tag said 'Tracey', plugged the hole with her finger. Rachel carefully stitched the hole between the beats of the Admiral's heart, taking special care not to knick Tracey's finger. "Okay! I think we're good! Let's move him!" Rachel and her little team of nurses rolled the gurney into the elevator and to the already prepared operating room. The surgical techs grabbed the gurney at the doorway, and wheeled him into OR where the cardio-thoracic surgeon began to work his magic.

|•|

Rachel peeled off her face shield and slumped against the wall. She was covered in blood. She was hot, sweaty, thirsty, had to pee, hungry, and exhausted. Not a good combination. She looked at her nurses, each covered in blood, and smiled proudly. "Thanks guys. You did an amazing job!" she praised. "Without you, the Admiral would have never made it this far. Y'all were awesome! Hooyah!"

The nurses smiled at the rare praise from the doctor, and replied with an energetic, "Hooyah!" Suddenly, the elevator doors opened and the entire NCIS team spilled out.

|•|

Gibbs looked in astonishment at Foster. She looked extremely thin and fragile. She was covered in blood. Her eyes were red and bloodshot. She was slumped on the floor, looking like she was about to doze off any second. But she had a satisfied smile on her face.

"He's alive. He's in surgery now. We won't know for a while if he's going to make it. But he's tough," Foster said before Gibbs could even ask.

"Why would you do that? We shoot the guy who held you hostage for almost three hours, and the first thing you do once you're free is turn around and save his life?" voiced Tony.

Rachel shrugged. "When I became a doctor, I swore to 'First, do no harm.' I am bound to that oath as a doctor. It doesn't matter what that patient did to me. He was in need of medical treatment. I provided it. As a special agent, yes, I know his Navy career is over, and he most likely will never see the light of day again. And, yes. I know he tried to kill me. But as a doctor, I knew he was bleeding out. He was going to die. I had to help him." Rachel got up and headed towards the elevator.

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Ziva. "We have to get your statement."

"I kind of need to wash all of this blood off of me. It's totally congealed onto my skin. I'm a walking, talking biohazard. I also have to go check on my other patients and finish some reports," snapped Foster.

Gibbs nodded and said, "Yeah. Go get yourself cleaned up. You look like hell." Foster glared at him, but climbed into the elevator. The doors closed behind her with a ding.

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for reading! Please review! **

**All of the medical information in this chapter was totally off of Google and an episode of _Untold Stories of the ER_.** **I am not a medical proffessional (yet), so most of this information probably isn't accurate. Please feel free to correct me! **


	16. Chapter 16

The elevator doors closed with a ding and Rachel leaned against the cool walls of the elevator, thankful for the relief. She hit the button for the bottom floor, where the locker rooms and showers were. She seriously had to change out of these scrubs. They were soaked with blood. And her shoes. Just forget about her shoes. They were going in the trash. "There goes another $150 down the drain. I really need to find cheaper work shoes...they always manage to get ruined just when they get broken in good." Her musings were cut short by the opening of the elevator doors. She headed to the locker room. She grabbed her bag from her locker and headed straight to the showers. At Walter Reed, they loaned you the scrubs for your shift. After your shift, you gave them back and they cleaned them. Good. This could be their headache. Her white shirt, red with blood, clung to her hot, sweaty skin. She managed to peel everything off and hopped into the shower. She gave a moan of delight as the hot spray hit her skin. The soothing water eased her muscles, many of which she didn't know she had even tensed. "Well, duh, Rachel. You were in a hostage situation for almost three hours. Of course there's going to be muscle tension."

She grabbed her bar of soap, and lathered once, twice, three times, trying to rid herself of the smelly, red, sticky liquid that was all over her body. Then there was the issue of her hair. She pulled it out of it's bun, and combed through it. Red flakes rained down onto the shower floor and swirled down the drain. She tilted her head back, allowing the hot water to soak through all of her hair. She grabbed the bottle of shampoo and lathered it twice. After what seemed like an eternity of standing under the hot stream of water, she turned the water off and dried off. She pulled her clothes on. They were slightly wrinkled, but whatever. She finished getting herself together. Then, she headed up to ICU to check on her patients.

|•|

Rachel walked into the ICU and headed to the nurse's desk. "Can you tell me what room Petty Officer Amelia Bennett is?" She hoped she was in the ICU. The only other place the Amelia would be was in the morgue.

"Room 4, Doctor."

"Thanks." Rachel turned around and headed towards Room 4. She walked in. Amelia was lying in the hospital bed, pale and deathly still. The hospital room was exceptionally quitet, except for the heart monitor keeping a constant, steady beep, beep, beep and the ventilator's whoosh, as it forced air into Amelia's lungs, then the whoosh when it was expelled. Rachel grabbed Amelia's hand, holding it gently, but firmly. "Hey Amelia. My name is Dr. Rachel Foster? I helped treat you. You were in really bad shape! What happened to you, huh? I'm also a special agent with NCIS, Naval Criminal Investigative Service. I will find out what happened, okay? I'll find out who did this to you. Hold on, Amelia. Keep fighting! Semper fortis!" Rachel saluted and left the room. Rachel's phone started to ring. She answered it as she walked towards the elevator.

It was Gibbs. "Foster. You ready to go? We're headed back to the Navy Yard."

"Yeah. I have to go pick up some reports that I need to finish. Oh. I need to ask McGee a question. Can he just stay behind with me? He can just ride with me on the way in."

"Yeah, I guess. See ya at the Yard."

"Yeah. See ya."

|•|

The elevator doors opened and McGee stood there, a look of worry on his face. "Uh, Gibbs said you wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah. I need to ask you a question," Rachel said as she headed over to her desk and grabbed some folders.

"Well..."

"Oh. Sorry. I was wondering if you could drive me to the Navy Yard. I'm exhausted. I've had about thirty minutes of sleep in the past thirty hours. I can't drive like this. I think if I sleep on the way to the Navy Yard, I can function. Will you be able to drive me?"

"Why didn't you ask someone else? Like Gibbs or Ziva or Tony?"

"Gibbs would've just sent me home. From what I've heard of Ziva's driving, I probably would've ended up in the morgue. And I definitely wouldn't have gotten any sleep whatsoever. And Tony. Forget Tony. He would've been making constant, stupid cracks about the stuff that the Admiral discussed. That left you. You also seem like you would be a pretty careful driver. Will you be able to drive me?"

"Uh...sure."

"Okay," Rachel smiled. "Thank you, McGee," she said as she walked out of the hospital to her car.


	17. Chapter 17

Rachel led McGee out to her dark blue Ford Prius. She threw her junk in the car, grabbed a blanket from the trunk, and settled in the passenger seat. "There's no rush to get back to the Navy Yard. The more I sleep, the better of a mood I'll be in when I wake up. Who knows...maybe there'll be an accident on the way! Accidents are always happening. An hour or two siting on the highway doesn't seem too bad."

"Yeah, for you Rachel! I'm the one driving! Do you have any music?"

"Yeah. There's the radio. I have it turned to my favorite classical music station. Helps me fall asleep. And concentrate. Not at the same time though. Because that wouldn't really work..." Rachel trailed off. "Okay. We better get going." Rachel pulled the blanket over herself, and leaned her head against the window.

McGee slid into the driver's seat, and slowly back the car out, and headed for the Navy Yard.

|•|

Rachel was asleep before her head even touched the window. However, dreams plagued her sleep.

"You were gone for over six months! You disappeared then showed back up! You looked like a mess. There were signs of sexual assault." The Admiral's voice echoed.

_Flashback..._

_She was thrown back in her dirty cell, bruised and exhausted. The man, he, he was through with her for today. Even though she was being used as the camp doctor, he and his men still had fun with her. Rachel shuddered. Today, he summoned her. The boss. The guy in charge. He was always the worst of them all. She desperately wanted to stay within the safety of her cell, but his orders couldn't be disobeyed. Rachel winced, thinking of what happened the last time she had not come when she was called. She answered, "أنا جاهزة سيد (I am ready, Master)" _

_The door swung open, and one of his men grabbed her roughly by the arm. He leered at her, _

_"لديه بعض المرح المخطط بالنسبة لك اليوم (He has some fun planned for you today)" He took his filthy hand and stroked her cheek as he dragged her down the hall. He threw her in the room and he gave her the normal instructions. "أنت تعرف ماذا تفعل. وقال انه سيكون معكم قريبا. (You know what to do. He will be in with you shortly)" Rachel looked around the room, the same one she was always in. There was a bed, a prayer mat, and a wash basin. His personal quarters. Rachel shivered, mentally prepared herself for what was going to happen. She forced herself to get ready. She cleaned the grime and dirt off of her and clothed herself in the robe that was laid out for her on the bed. Then she waited. It was always the waiting that got to her. Suddenly, the door opened. He came in and closed the door behind him. _

_"غاب عني، يا حبيبي (Miss me, my darling?)" _

_"مجرد الحصول على معها، أيها الوغد (Just get on with it, you bastard)" _

_He smiled cruelly, "في الواقع. حان الوقت لبعض المرح (Indeed. It's time to have some fun)" He grabbed her wrists and tied them to the bedposts. He did the same with her ankles. She didn't resist. She had found that out the hard way. It only made things worse. Much, much worse. He caressed her hair, smiling as she flinched at his touch. He leaned over her and began shaking her..._

|•|

"Rachel? Rachel? Rachel!" a man's voice slowly started to cut through her exhausted stupor. She acted instinctively, grabbing the man's arm, gripping in a way that with one twist, the arm would be broken. "Rachel! It's McGee! Let go of me! Wake up, Rachel!"

Rachel opened her eyes and saw McGee standing over her, his arm gripped tightly in her hand. She immediately let go. "Omigosh, McGee! I am so sorry! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. What about you? You were whimpering and screaming, 'No, no! You won't hurt me again!'"

"Bad dream. I'm fine. Although I would appreciate it if the team didn't hear about this." She pleaded at him with an anguished look in her eye. McGee sighed and nodded.

"Mum's the word."

"Thank you, McGee. For everything. We better head on inside. Gibbs'll be wondering where we are." Rachel grabbed her stuff and headed towards the doors.

|•|

McGee trailed behind, deep in thought. The only other time he had seen someone this distraught was when Ziva came back from Somalia. He shivered, just thinking about it. The dust, the dirt, the hot dry air, Ziva's broken body being dragged into the room, the bullet piercing Saleem's forehead. It was after Somalia, one day. Ziva had fallen asleep, and she was crying out in her sleep. Her cries of "אני לא יודע כלום, סלים. (I know nothing, Saleem) slowly turned into screams "לא, לא! בבקשה להפסיק! בבקשה! אבא, איפה אתה? תפסיק! בבקשה!(No, no! Please stop! Please! Father, where are you! Stop! Please!)" McGee just couldn't take it anymore.

_Flashback..._

_It was late at night. Tony had finished all of his paperwork. (Finished as in he dumped it all on McGee's desk, telling him, "Ahhh, Probie. Since you don't have a life and I do, I'm sure you won't mind finishing my paperwork. Thanks!" as he breezed out of the bullpen into the elevator.)_

_Gibbs was out getting more coffee, and Ziva had fallen asleep at her desk. She looked so, so innocent when she slept. Her brow, normally furrowed with confusion, exhaustion, annoyance, and/or exhaustion, was smooth. She evenly breathed in and out. All of a sudden, she screamed out in Hebrew, "אני לא יודע כלום, סלים. (I know nothing, Saleem!)" McGee didn't know Hebrew, but he recognized Saleem's name. He grew white with fury, thinking about the terrible things that Saleem must've done to Ziva. Then, Ziva's indignant cries turned to wimpers and moans. Tears streamed down her face, as she writhed underneath some unseeable force. She pleaded, "לא, לא! בבקשה להפסיק! בבקשה! אבא, איפה אתה? תפסיק! בבקשה! (No, no! Please stop! Please! Father, where are you? Stop! Please!)" _

_Again, although McGee could not understand exactly what she said, but he heard her pleading and crying for her father, her Abba. He couldn't take it anymore. He just couldn't. He had to wake her up. He went over to Ziva's desk, and shook her, desperately trying to wake her. _

_"Ziva! Wake up! Ziva! It's just a dream, Ziva. You're at NCIS. You're safe, now. ZIVA!" he cried out, as she grabbed his wrist with a lightening speed. _

_"You shall not hurt me anymore, Saleem! I can fight now! You have no power over me!" Her eyes were open, seeing not McGee in front of her, but Saleem. She grabbed her knife. She was ready to thrust it deep within McGee, when all of a sudden, she snapped out of her trance. "McGee!" she cried as she sheathed her knife and let go of his wrist. "Are you okay?" _

_"Yeah, Ziva. I'm fine. I should be asking you the same question. Are you alright?" _

_Ziva wiped the tears from her face and nodded. "Yes. I am fine. I think," she said as she gathered her things, "I think I shall go home now. I'll see you tomorrow, McGee. And McGee, thank you." _

_The next morning, Ziva had breezed into the bullpen, all traces of what had happened seemingly erased. She smiled at McGee, then got on with filling out paperwork._

_|•|_

And that was that. They had never spoken of the incident again. McGee had nearly forgotten about the incident, putting it in his 'Memories to Forget' file. But then, when Rachel had grabbed him and almost broken his arm, it had all come flooding back to him. He sighed and instead of heading into the NCIS building, he headed over to the coffee kiosk, picking up coffees for the team.

As he walked back into the building, carrying the carton of coffees and sipping his vanilla latte with extra whipped cream, he promised himself that he would have to ask Rachel about that. Maybe she could talk with Ziva or something. He entered the elevator and pushed the button for his floor. The doors opened, and McGee walked out, joining the rest of his team.

**A/N: Hope you're enjoying so far! Please review and let me know what I'm doing right and what things I need to change! You guys are constantly inspiring me to write more and write better chapters. Thanks so much! :)**


	18. Chapter 18

McGee walked into the bullpen, holding a carton with four coffees.

"Omigosh...is that coffee I see? McGee! You're a lifesaver!" Rachel exclaimed. "And thank you to whoever sent that coffee into me when I was with the Admiral. You are officially my favorite person."

Tony smirked. "You're quite welcome, darling."

Rachel stiffened. "Call me darling again, and I swear I will make your life living hell. But seriously, thank you. That's what kept me cognitive while I was talking."

"Speaking of talking, I have to gather your statement about what happened," interjected Gibbs.

"Oh. That. I was getting ready to leave and one of the nurses came up to me, saying there was a man who urgently needed to see me. I told her to put the man in Dr. Hopkin's office. I went to clean up, because I was covered in blood from the last case that I had. Once I had cleaned up, I went to go see the man. I opened the door and he said, 'Remember me?' Then I saw the gun. I turned around and screamed 'Code Silver', which is the code for..."

"Combative person/assault. I know. Go on," interrupted Gibbs.

"Yeah. Anyway, he grabbed me, told me not to do that again. And he kept asking me what happened two years ago. I kept telling him I didn't know. That's when you called out. And you know the rest."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No. I've been through a lot worse."

"Okay, I think that's it."

"Oh, Gibbs. Are we working on a case right now?"

"Do we look like we're working on a case, Foster?"

"Well...no. I was wondering if we could investigate the assault of Petty Officer Amelia Bennett. She was shot twice in the chest. She was brought into the hospital this morning. She was my last case that I took before I had my little experience with the Admiral."

Gibbs shrugged. "I guess. But if we get another case, this one will go on the back burner. Understood?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, and Rule 38."

"What? What rule?"

"Gibbs has these rules, and Rule 38 is 'Your case, your lead'," said Ziva.

Rachel turned to Gibbs. "What? You're giving me the lead? I've been here like, a week..."

"I know. And don't make me regret this decision."

"You won't. Okay. Let me make some calls."

|•|

Rachel went back to her desk, and picked up her phone. She dialed the hospital.

"Hey. It's Doctor Rachel Foster. I need you to fax me a patient's chart. Petty Officer Amelia Bennett. She was brought into the ER with two gunshot wounds to the chest. She's in ICU, Room 4. Also, can you send anything over that was associated with her case. Bullets, casings, clothing, identification...yeah. I'll be on the lookout for Dr. White. Thanks so much. Oh. I'm going to need updates on the Petty Officer, too. Every four hours? Okay. That'll work. Thanks so much!" She hung up, and went over to the fax machine. Soon, she had all she needed.

|•|

She stood in front of her co-workers' desks.

"Okay. This is Petty Officer Amelia Bennett," Rachel put Amelia's military ID and picture up on the huge flat screen that dominated much of the bullpen. "She was shot twice in the chest. She's now in ICU. She was brought in at 0605. She was in the OR by 0710. Metro had the case, but now they've handed it over to us, since it's in our jurisdiction. Apparently, someone was walking their dog, heard the shots, and went to check it out. That's when they found Amelia. They called 911. And they took her to the hospital. I guess we need to collect the witness's statement. Uh..." Rachel looked at Gibbs for help. He just shrugged.

"McGee and I can do that," Ziva offered.

"Yeah, you two go on. Here's the witness's information." She smiled thankfully at Ziva, as she handed her the information.

"And Tony, I need you to do a background check on the Petty Officer. I need to find out who she was."

"Okay. Got it," Tony replied.

"Foster. Conference room. Now," said Gibbs.

Rachel looked confused. Gibbs rolled his eyes and jerked his thumb towards the elevator. Rachel blushed and nodded. "Okay."

|•|

Rachel stepped inside the elevator with Gibbs. The doors closed, and Gibbs flipped the emergency stop switch.

"Is this what you always do when you talk to people?" Rachel asked.

Gibbs nodded, and sipped his ever-present cup of coffee. God. It was like the coffee cup was glued to his hand. Just like Simon...Rachel smiled as she remembered _her_ Marine going off to work everyday, coffee cup in hand.

|•|

"Foster. Foster? FOSTER!" Gibbs yelled.

Rachel shook herself out of reverie. "Sorry, Gibbs. So...you wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah. This is the second time in the past week that you've been in a hostage situation. This time you were the hostage. You attract trouble just like DiNozzo. God, he can get himself into situations."

Rachel shrugged. "Yeah. I've always been like that. That's why my parents are now living in Florida, trying to recover from raising me. And that's also why I was an only child. My parents figured out how, uh, _mischevious_ I could be, and they decided that they were 'one-and-done' parents."

"Try to be more careful. I really don't feel like explaining to Vance why my newest agent is down in the morgue."

"I'll try. I can't make any promises."

Gibbs nodded and flipped the switch. The elevator doors opened, and theywalked back into the bullpen.

|•|

Tony sat at his desk, looking up the information for Rachel, when a young man wearing light blue scrubs and holding a box came walking into the bullpen. He was sweating profusely, and his face was flushed.

"Can I help you?" Tony asked. The young man jumped about three feet in the air.

"Uh, yeah. I'm, uh, looking for, uh, Dr. Foster. I mean, Agent Foster. I mean, Special Agent Foster. I have the evidence that she wanted. Oh. And I think your elevator is broken. I had to take the steps...four flights..." he stuttered.

Tony grinned. "I'm Very Special Agent DiNozzo. I'll take that," he grabbed the box of the evidence that the man was holding. "So what's your name? How do you know Rachel?"

"I'm, uh, Dr. Jeremy White. Buy you can call me Jeremy. Or White. I mean, you can call me whatever you want..." he trailed off. Tony's glare sent him back on track. "Uh, I'm Dr. Foster's resident. Well, actually, I'm Dr. Hopkin's resident, but since he's on vacation, I'm following Dr. Foster around. I just came off a thirty-two hour shift...so I'm sorry if I'm stuttering. That's what happens when I'm super tired."

"So what's Dr. Foster like to work with?" Tony pried. He pulled a chair from behind McGee's desk and pulled it up to his own. He motioned for Jeremy to sit down. The young man sank into it gratefully.

"She's a very good doctor. I don't know why she doesn't do medicine full time anymore. She knows what she's doing. She will chew your ass out if you do something wrong. I get yelled out a lot. On Friday, she chewed out one of the student nurses so badly, that she started to cry. It was bad. She's not afraid to tell you 'Good job' or 'Nice work' if you do something right, though. But that happens rarely." His eyes all of a sudden grew wide at something positioned behind Tony. "Dr. Foster! How long have you been there?"

Tony turned around just in time to see a very unhappy looking Rachel and impatient Gibbs standing right behind him.

"Long enough to know that I'm a good doctor, that I bust people's butts when they're not doing what they're supposed to do, but that I'll occasionally give praise," was the doctor's peeved reply.

Jeremy winced. "So basically the entire time..."

"Yeah. Pretty much," she stated.

**SMACK!**

"Ow! Boss what was that for?" Tony whined.

"For pumping this guy for information," Gibbs replied.

"Gibbs, this is the resident who followed me around my last couple shifts, Dr. Jeremy White. Jeremy, this is Special Agent Gibbs."

The young man shook hands with Gibbs, "Nice to meet you Agent Gibbs."

Rachel looked through the box of evidence that Jeremy brought. "Okay. I think I have everything. Thanks Jeremy. Go home and get some sleep."

"Yes, Doctor." He sighed gratefully and made his exit, ducking gratefully into the safety of the elevator.

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a review! You guys are my inspiration! :)**


	19. Chapter 19

McGee and Ziva drove to their witness's house. Ziva had stolen the keys from McGee, so she was driving. As she whizzed past an old lady walking her dog, McGee finally spoke.

"Ziva. Do you remember-Omigod Ziva! Watch the road!-"

"I am well aware of my surroundings, McGee. Do I remember what?"

"Do you remember that one time when you fell asleep in the bullpen after you came back from...you know...Somalia?"

Ziva cringed a little. "Yes."

"Well, Rachel had an experience like that today. I stayed back at the hospital because Gibbs said she had a question for me. When she finished up, she asked if I could drive her to the Navy Yard. She wanted to get some sleep so Gibbs wouldn't be on her ass. I said yes. I mean, what was I supposed to say. She was absolutely exhausted. I drove her to the Yard. She fell asleep. About half-way there, she started with the thrashing. Then, she started to whimper and moan. Finally, she started to scream. And I mean SCREAM! It was awful. We were finally at the Navy Yard. I went to wake her up, but the second I touched her, she grabbed my wrist. She nearly broke my arm, Ziva!"

Ziva sighed. "Do you want me to talk to her?"

McGee nodded. "She told me not to tell anyone, but I didn't know what to do..."

"It is fine, McGee. I will see what I can do, okay?"

McGee breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, hey we're here!"

Ziva looked up. "Yes. Yes, we are."

|•|

Ziva and McGee walked up to the house and knocked. A young woman answered the door.

"Are you Lina Wood?" asked Ziva, as they flashed their badges.

"Yes," Lina answered.

"NCIS. We would like to ask you some questions about the assault of a female Petty Officer. You witnessed the attack, did you not?"

The young woman motioned for them to step inside. "Sort-of. I've already been questioned by the police. Would you two like some coffee?"

"No thank you," they both politely declined. "We know you have. DC Metro has handed the case off to us, since it's in our jurisdiction. NCIS stands for Naval Criminal Investigative Service. We just like hearing the account firsthand. Anyway, you were walking your dog..."

"Yeah. I was walking Legolas-" she stopped as McGee looked at her curiously.

"Yeah, he's named after an elf. I liked the name, okay? _Anyway_, I was walking Legolas through the park like I do everyday. I heard some really loud shouting. Two voices, one male and one female, it sounded like. They were in the middle of an arguement. Like super intense arguement. Then I heard gunshots. Two of them, I think. I rushed over, and I saw her on the ground," Lina shuddered. "There was so much blood everywhere...I tried to stop the bleeding, while I called 911. Luckily, there was an ambulance less than a minute away, coming in from their last call. They came by, and got the woman to the hospital. The police who came on the scene a couple minutes later took my statement. That was it. I hope that helps. You know where I am, if you have anymore questions."

"Yes, I believe that is it," Ziva said as she finished scrawling her notes in her notebook. "Thank you for your time."

"No problem."

|•|

Rachel sighed. "I better go get this evidence down to Abby. I should probably go get her a Caf-Pow!."

|•|

The doors to Abby's lab opened as Rachel walked through.

"Hey, Gibbs! Whatcha for me?" her cheerful voice rang out over the extremely loud death metal that was playing.

"Um, hey Abby. It's me," Rachel said, recoiling at the deafening music filling the lab.

Abby whirled around, a dissatisfied look on her face. She sighed. "What do you want?"

"I have some evidence for you."

"Why isn't Gibbs here with you?" she asked.

"Um...he put me in charge of the case we're working on," Rachel replied.

"He what!?"

"Yeah. He put me in charge of the case. Long story short, a petty officer was brought into the hospital this morning. She was shot twice in the chest. She barely made it up to surgery. She's in the ICU right now...Gibbs said since I treated her, that it was Rule...38, I think. 'Your case, your lead.' Metro had the case, but they handed it over to us. And that's where you come in. I need you to process this evidence. Please."

Abby huffed and rolled her eyes. "Okay."

Rachel smiled. "I can help you, if you want...I mean, I do know how to use all of this equipment."

Abby shook her head. "No. Nobody touches my equipment. Especially not Major Mass Spec." She glared pointedly at Rachel, who was running her hand over her precious equipment. Rachel blushed and snatched her hand away.

"Thank you, Abby," she said as she headed out the door.

"Yeah...no problem at all," Abby muttered under her breath as the doors of her lab opened and closed after her visitor.

|•|

When Rachel walked into the bullpen, Ziva and McGee were back.

"Hey guys. So...what did the witness say?"

Ziva pulled out her notes. "The witness, Lina Wood, was walking her dog at the park like she does everyday. She heard two voices, one male and one female intensely arguing. Then, she heard gunshots. She ran over and found the Petty Officer on the ground. She then called 911. Paramedics and police responded and were on the scene almost instantly."

"Okay. Thank you, Ziva. Tony. What did you find out about our Petty Officer?"

"She was thirty-eight. Not married. No kids. She was in DC for a debriefing. She just finished a six month deployment on a sub. Everything about this latest deployment is classified."

"Okay. I guess we better go check out the scene of the crime, before it gets too messed up."

|•|

The team stepped out of the car and breathed in the crisp fall air. A stiff breeze blew through the tall maple and oak trees at the park, causing all of the leaves to fall off and dance to the ground. Only the bright yellow "Caution" tape whipping in the wind ruined the spectacle. Rachel lifted the tape and went underneath to the scene of the crime. She surveyed the area. It was a small clearing in the trees a little way off of the jogging trail. She could see the dried blood on the grass. Something in the grass glinted and caught her eye. She grabbed a pair of gloves.

"Uh...Tony and McGee. I guess you can check the perimeter. Ziva, if you could sketch and shoot. I'll bag and tag. And Gibbs..." she trailed off. "I guess you can do whatever you want." Rachel made her way over to the object that had caught her attention. It was a ring, with some sort of insignia. It looked almost like a gang sign. She bagged it.

McGee called out suddenly. "Guys. I think I got something!"

Everyone hurried over to McGee. He pointed to the small handgun lying in the grass. "I think we have the murder weapon," said Tony.

"Maybe we can get some fingerprints. I also found ring with some sort of insignia on it. It looks almost like a gang sign. I guess just bag it. We need to get this to Abby pronto!"

The team finished up, finding nothing more significant. They piled into the car and headed back to the Navy Yard.


	20. Chapter 20

Gibbs ran his hands through his hair and sighed heavily. He picked up the mason jar of bourbon and drank what was left in one sip. The warm trail of liquid traveled on its familiar journey to his belly, and woke him up. He picked up sander and began to sand. He heard the pitter-patter of feet on the floor above him. It had been an exhausting day. It was 0100 Wednesday morning. He had sent everyone home at 1900. He winced as he remembered the evening's events.

_Flashback..._

_"Where's Foster?" Gibbs asked as he breezed through the bullpen to his desk. He had just finished a "fun" hour-and-a-half lecture from Vance, and then SecNav on the safety of his agents._

_"I believe she said she had a question for Ducky," Ziva replied, not looking up from her work._

_"How long ago was that?" Gibbs asked._

_"About an hour," McGee replied._

_"Why the hell isn't she back yet?"_

_"Ducky's probably telling her one of his famous stories. Long, long ago in Scotland there was a young lad who..." snorted Tony._

**_SMACK!_**

_"Sorry, Boss."_

_"McGee. With me. Let's go see if we can rescue Foster."_

_The doors of Autopsy whooshed open as Gibbs strode in._

_"Duck! What's wrong!" He immediately on guard, seeing the distraught look on his friend's face._

_"Jethro. I was just about to call you. Rachel came down here about an hour ago, saying she just wanted to get a couple minutes of sleep and asked if I would let her sleep down here. I said yes, of course. She climbed onto one of the tables and was out cold within a matter of seconds. That reminds me of a young man that I knew in grade school-"_

_"Ducky. Get to the point."_

_"Anyway, she fell asleep. I was going to wake her up a couple minutes ago, but before I could, she started to squirm and writhe around in her sleep. She also began to whimper and moan in Arabic. I don't know exactly what she was saying, but she was in extreme distress. Now, she's huddled over there, in the corner," he pointed to one of Autopsy's dark corners, "and she refuses to come out. Jethro. Her eyes are open, but they're not seeing you and me. It's as if she's not even at NCIS. I was just about to call you. I just didn't know what to do..."_

_"It's okay, Duck. We're here now." Gibbs made his way towards the young woman crouched in the corner, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. McGee looked at him with concern and fear in his eyes._

_"Uh, Gibbs. I wouldn't do that if I were you. I nearly got a broken arm when I tried to wake Rachel up..." he grimaced, realizing what he had just said._

_Gibbs stared at McGee, his cerulean eyes penetrating his employee's very being. "Well, you know how Rachel wanted me to stay back at the hospital so she could ask me a question," Gibbs nodded. "Well, she wanted to know if I could drive her to the Yard so she could sleep. I agreed. I mean, she was absolutely exhausted. She fell asleep almost instantly. She started to whimper and cry. Then she started to scream. It was awful. It was terrified, hair-splitting screams. We finally got to the Yard, and I went to wake her up. I touched her, and she grabbed my wrist and nearly broke my arm! I finally got her to wake up. She apologized profusely, but she also told me to keep this to myself. I told Ziva, though. I thought Ziva may be able to help..." he finally finished. "I followed your rule, Gibbs! 'The best way to keep a secret is keep it to yourself. Second best, tell one other person, if you must. There is no third best,'" he quoted._

_Gibbs nodded. "You did fine, McGee. We're just going to have to wake her up without touching her..." He had barely finished before Rachel bolted over to the sink and started heaving. McGee looked away in shock and disgust as she wretched and vomitted, over and over again. Finally, she finished and leaned against the sink for a few minutes. Finally, she blinked a couple of times, shook her head, and looked around._

_"狗屎！(Shit!)" she muttered. She looked in the sink and looked back up. "Hey guys," she offered feebly. She looked at McGee, then at Gibbs, them back at McGee. "You told him, didn't you?" she asked McGee. _

_McGee nodded mutely. __"And Ziva," he added._

_Foster's face crumpled. "Ziva, too! Seriously, McGee? I told you to keep this between us!"_

_"I'm sorry, Rachel. I had too."_

_Gibbs eventually spoke up, speaking to McGee, "Don't apologize. It's a sign of weakness."_

_Foster cleaned up her mess and pushed past her coworkers. "I better get home."_

_"You're not going home, Foster," Gibbs stated._

_Foster whipped around with a fierce look on her face. "What do you mean I'm not going home?"_

_"You don't need to be alone right now," Gibbs calmly told her._

_"Gibbs. I'll be fine. I just need some sleep."_

_"Foster. This is not a request, okay? You are coming home with me and that's final."_

_She huffed and angrily glared at him. "Fine," she snapped, "I need to go by my house to grab some stuff, though."_

_Gibbs nodded. "Alright. Let's go grab your bag and then we can go." She sighed and nodded. He turned to McGee, "Tell everyone they can go home."_

_McGee nodded, looked at Foster with a look of pity, and disappeared into the elevator._

_Foster gazed past Gibbs, to Ducky, who had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole exchange._

_"Diolch i chi, Ducky. (Thank you, Ducky)," she managed to say. Ducky smiled as he pulled Foster into a long hug._

_"Mae croeso eithaf, fy annwyl. (You are quite welcome, my dear)," he whispered in her ear. Foster pulled away and joined Gibbs in the elevator._

_She quickly grabbed her stuff and followed Gibbs to his truck. She gave him instructions to her house. He pulled up in front of a large house in Georgetown. "Not far away from where Jenny lived," Gibbs thought._

_Foster got out. "You can come in, if you want," she offered. Gibbs nodded and got out of his truck. There was no way he was going to leave her alone. Not after what had just happened. Rachel unlocked her door and scooped the mail up off the floor. She flicked on some lights. "Come on in, Gibbs. I have to go upstairs and grab some stuff. I'll be down in five." Gibbs nodded again. He slowly walked through the doorway of her house. It was classy, but had a comfortable feeling. He poked his head into a room, which turned out to be a formal dining room. In the center of the room was a gigantic dining room table. One that looked like it could sit at least twelve guests. He looked into the next room, the kitchen. It was roomy, with stainless steel appliances and expensive gadgets that looked barely used. The next room he peeked into the next room, a room full of instruemnts. The main focal point of the room was a gorgeous, baby grand piano placed in the middle of the room. He stepped in and pressed a couple of its keys. Each note was full and rich. He glanced around and saw many other instruments, some in their cases and some not. He saw a harp, a cello, two guitars, and a violin sitting out in the open. He guessed, by the shape and size of the cases, that was where the wind instruments made their residence. One was gigantic and bulky. Tuba, maybe? The other two were quite small. Maybe a flute and a clarinet. Or a piccolo. _

_A half-amused voice interrupted his musings. "I'm ready." _

_Gibbs moved quickly towards the door, a little embarrassed that he had been caught snooping through his employee's house. They drove in silence to his house, with Foster dozing on and off._

_Gibbs finally pulled into his driveway. He grabbed Foster's bag and shook her awake. (Luckily, she wasn't in the middle of one of her nightmares.) He unlocked the door, then hung his keys up on the hook inside the door. Foster shuffled in, spotted the couch, flopped down, and was asleep within five seconds. He chuckled a little, then pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and covered her with it. She was totally out. She did, however, rouse herself a bit, once he started to cook the steak. She stayed awake long enough to eat (the amount of food consumed would've fed a small army for a month), take a "quick" shower (she used up ALL the hot water in the house), and change (which was the only thing she did quickly). Then she crashed (again) on the bed in his guest room._

|•|

Gibbs looked up and was surprised to see Foster standing right in front of him, watching him sand. It seemed like she had just materialized in front of him. At least she looked a little more rested. He wordlessly handed her a sander. She smiled her thanks. They worked quietly, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Finally, Foster broke the silence. "Gibbs?" she asked hesitantly.

He looked up and stopped sanding. "Yeah?"

"Do...do you have any..." Gibb's look urged her on. "Do you have any kids?" she finally blurted out.

**A/N: How will Gibbs respond? Mwahaha, cliff hanger! ;)**

**I have a new story, _Letters to Daddy,_ that I posted yesterday. I would love for you guys to check it out! As always, thanks for reading and please review and let me know how I'm doing! Y'all are always so encouraging! L****ove y'all so much! XOXOXO! :)**


	21. Chapter 21

Gibbs set his sander down with a clunk and plopped down onto one the stools by his worktable. He grabbed his bottle of bourbon and poured himself another shot. "Why do you ask?" he finally said as he peered intently at her.

Foster blushed a little and shrugged. "I don't know...I was just wondering if you had any kids, I guess. I mean, it looks like the room I stayed in used to belong to a little girl."

"Yeah, it did. It belonged to my daughter. But she died a long time ago. Along with my first wife."

Rachel gave him a sad look, one that he was apprently used to. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to-"

Gibbs glared at her. "You know I don't like apologies, Foster. And it was a legitimate question. Now I have one for you. What's with all of these nightmares?"

|•|

Rachel tensed up. He had a right to ask, I mean, she had just invaded his privacy by asking an intenesly personal question. I mean, it had just popped into her head and had flown out her mouth before she even knew what was happening. She had always had impulse-control issues. She sighed heavily, and her eyes darted around the basement, as if searching for an escape route.

"It's nothing. Just old memories that I haven't thought about in a while." She offered a pained smile, knowing that her answer wasn't going to satisfy Gibbs.

He sipped on his bourbon as he watched her carefully. "You really should talk with Ziva. She's been through a lot. Most of which, no person should ever go through."

She self-consciously twisted a lock of her hair, as she answered. "I'll be fine, Gibbs. I've handled this before. By myself. It just takes time. That's all."

"I want you to talk to Ziva, Foster. That's not a request."

"This is a personal matter, Gibbs. I'll handle it like I always do, okay?"

"How do you "handle it"? By not sleeping? By possibly putting your life or the lives of others in danger because you're too exhausted to think clearly? Either you talk with Ziva, or I'll have Vance put you on desk duty while you go through a full psych evaluation. Your choice."

Before Rachel could answer, her phone started to ring.

**RING! RING! RING!**

Gibbs shot daggers at her, as she grabbed her phone from her hip and answered, "Foster. Yeah. Uh huh. She's WHAT! WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL ME SOONER! I AM BEING CALM! Okay. Fine. Be there ASAP." She pressed the off button on the phone's touchscreen.

"Dammit! Dammit! **DAMMIT**!" she muttered as she raced up the steps of Gibbs's basement. Suddenly, she remembered Gibbs, who was still sitting on the bar stool and giving her a strange look. She turned to him and informed, "Our petty officer's coding. We need to be at the hospital, like-" she glanced at her wristwatch, "now. Let me grab my stuff." And she took off towards the guest room.

|•|

They made it to the hospital in eight minutes flat. Mainly because it was 0300 and there was no traffic. Plus Gibbs drove like a maniac. That also helped. A lot. Gibbs dropped her off at the emergency entrance, and Rachel sprinted to the elevator and smacked the up button. The doors opened and she hit the button for the floor of the ICU. The doors opened, and she raced noisily though the silent ICU, eliciting a couple of ugly glares from the nurses, to Amelia's room. She made it there just in time to witness the doctor pull the sheet over Amelia's pale, lifeless body. The doctor glanced up at her, and mutely shook his head. Rachel groaned and stormed out of the room, running straight into Gibbs who was coming into the room. He took one look at her expression, and immediately knew what happened. His face hardened, and he ran his hands through his hair.

"I guess you're in charge of a murder investigation now. This case takes priority. Better call everyone and tell them to come on in. I'm going to get coffee," and he walked away, his footsteps echoing through the quiet hallway.

**A/N: Hey! Sorry for the late update! Had really bad writer's block, and I'm still not completely satisfied with this chapter. :( **

**Updates will be A LOT more sporadic now, since I'm going to be starting all of my subjects in school next week! :(**

**Anyway, thanks soooo much for reading! Please review! I really, really enjoy your feedback! :) :) :)**


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